


Essential Comforts

by Delmire



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dorian is having A Day, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22266847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delmire/pseuds/Delmire
Summary: Dorian is having A Day but thankfully Bull is here to help him.
Relationships: Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 9
Kudos: 87
Collections: The Collected Fanfics for the Adoribull Reverse Bang 2019





	Essential Comforts

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any mistakes, I've been sick and haven't properly edited it yet, that shall be done in the next few days! Also I hope it works?? I was aiming for that weird kinda mood when you are so busy then stop and feel really out of sorts and not necessarily yourself + cute + smut *nervous*
> 
> You can find the wonderful art inspiring the fic for the adoribull reverse bang [here](https://shiokishuji.tumblr.com/post/190269115297/essential-comforts-dragon-age-inquisition-2019#notes).

“Camping is quite low on the list of things that I would consider to be restful or fun,” Dorian declared as he sat on the flattest rock he could find without leaving Bull’s side. It was rather lacking in the comfort department but that was to be expected really.

Bull grunted in response as he continued digging up the deathroot, his deft fingers carefully separating the winding stalks from the tree the weed was attempting to choke. “It’s not my ideal either,” Bull replied absently, pausing to grunt as he attempted to pull more of the strange plant up without success before taking to it with a small, sharp dagger. “I’d rather be in a bar with you on one knee, a tankard in the other hand, and all the Chargers around the table. Now that’s a relaxing night.”

Dorian felt his cheeks heat at the casual reference to their relationship, such as it was. It was still a fairly new thing; the move from casual fuck to friends with benefits to _feelings_ had happened so smoothly that he still sometimes wondered when exactly he’d fallen for the big oaf. But the casual openness of Bull whenever he referred to _them_ would probably remain a novelty for quite some time. It was something he’d truly never believed he’d have in his life; an open relationship with another man. Yet here was this hulking qunari boasting about Dorian at seemingly every opportunity, whose idea of a relaxing night included Dorian perched upon his knee for all the world to know exactly what he was to Bull.

Clearing his throat, Dorian pulled his attention away from his musings before he could start to get emotional. Too much of it would inevitably show on his face or in his words and Bull would see right through him when he denied it. A relaxing few days did not include blubbering on about love and acceptance in his mind. Though, neither did it include camping in the Hissing Wastes or foraging for herbs for the Inquisition.

“Honestly, what was Cadash thinking? I respect our dear Inquisitor greatly but sending everyone out in small groups to gather plants and sleep rough is hardly relaxing.”

It was about time that they stopped to catch their breath though. It had been weeks of constant activity; rift after rift closed and tasks completed for various towns and individual villagers great or small. If it wasn’t demons it was wolves or bandits or undead. The days blurred together into endless battles or bursts of forced rest while another took his place for a few hours. Never once in that time did the Inquisitor seem to slow or tire. She always wore the same weary look as though the world rested on her small shoulders but it only seemed to spur her on.

Her call to finally stop and rest after their trip through the fade had been a long time coming and was met with nothing but relief. Or at least it had been until she declared that they would not be returning to Skyhold or the nearest city, no, their rest would be refilling the inquisitions dwindling stocks.

“Some people don’t know how to rest,” Bull replied mildly, the humour in his voice unmistakable. “If we’d gone back to Skyhold, you’d have just holed yourself up in that tower with all your research and forgotten to eat and sleep again. And if we can complete a task at the same time? Even better. That way no one, like our dear Commander for instance, can try to get out of it by claiming to have other tasks instead. If anyone needs a break as much as Cadash, its Cullen.”

Dorian huffed, unable to refute his lover’s words. He had just been thinking earlier that he’d have rather been back in his little library nook researching too. Reading was restful and at least he had a proper bed to go to each night. Though usually only when Bull came to find him to make sure Dorian did, in fact, sleep. “Well, I do appreciate the Inquisitor choosing somewhere warm to go at least, though why in the makers name we need so much deathroot is beyond me. It feels enough like the busy work it is that its unsatisfying.”

“Deathroot has more uses than just poisons,” Bull informed him in that same amused tone as before. He still didn’t comment on Dorian’s lack of assistance, which he’d expected by now, though Bull did shift so that he wasn’t kneeling any more which concerned Dorian. He sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, a sign that the day was beginning to wear on Bull. All this kneeling and bending over could not be good for his joints though Bull was hardly likely to admit it aloud. Dorian, however, had no qualms about complaining and had been most of the day already. “If distilled correctly it can also be used as a painkiller. Stitches uses it a lot in polituces when we are on the road. Lots of poisonous plants have different uses when used in smaller doses or prepared in a certain way.”

“That makes sense,” Dorian replied, his gazed pulled to the side by a small lizard scurrying up on a small stone to his left. “Much like how healing magic can be manipulated into death magic, so to speak. Necromancy is spirit magic, the same school as any Restoration spell. Interesting how things can mirror the same properties or theories across entirely different fields of study.”

Dorian moved his arm, startling the small lizard who froze for a second before scurrying away and he was almost sad to see the spikey little creature go. There was little else of interest to observe in this barren desert and he’d already admired his fill of his lovers back muscles for the day. Mostly because looking led to wanting to touch and that would inevitably lead to sand in places he didn’t want. Better to avoid looking for now to remove all temptation until they reached the Inquisition camp outpost.

Reaching out to the fade mentally, Dorian moved his hand out towards where he could still see the tail of the lizard. A muttered word and the small creature froze as the very time around it ground to a halt. Very carefully, Dorian leaned over and scooped the lizard up, its small frame easily fitting inside his palm but for the dangling tail. The small spikes armouring its body tickled his finger as he gently ran his index finger across its back.

“Time magic has no principles crossing over into other fields as far as I have been able to ascertain, it is entirely foreign to even other theories of magic, but it is a very useful tool for studying anything. A rather severe mana drain, even for something as small this, but it would be rare to study such a shy creature without harming it otherwise.”

Bull turned around to look over at the creature in Dorian’s palm, a wry smile taking over his face before he went back to his task. “You that bored that you are studying the local wildlife now?”

“My hands hurt,” Dorian declared as he placed the small lizard back on its warm rock and released the spell holding it suspended in time. It immediately zipped away, disappearing between a few piled rocks some paces away and the endless sand. “My back hurts, my knees hurt, and the dirt under my nails feels like its never coming out. Do not get me started on the sand in my clothing. The only good thing to come from today is the company and the warmth; I feel like my limbs have thawed for the first time in weeks but all I feel from them is pain.”

“Aw, I like spending time with you too, Big Guy.”

As usual, Bull cut straight through Dorian’s grumblings to the heart of what he didn’t want to say directly. Dorian should have learnt by now just how perceptive his lover was but years of speaking a certain way was hard to break out of. Little hints of truth buried in his usual grumblings, there only because he couldn’t bottle up everything forever. Tevinter was not a place where sentiment was allowed to be shown freely as it was seen as a weakness. A lifelong habit formed to keep himself as safe and sane as possible, now suddenly no longer needed.

Not that it seemed to matter, as Bull always saw right through him anyway.

“Yes, well. This is hardly a nice way to spend time together,” Dorian groused, his attention once more drawn to Bull’s back. The problem with the qunari choosing not to wear a shirt was that the sight of rippling muscles as he moved was really just too tempting. “I could think of far better ways to while away the time before we need to go back to saving the world.”

Bull pulled the last of the roots he’d sliced away into the now bulging sack they’d been given that morning. With a small grunt of effort, he clambered to his feet, taking a moment to stretch and Dorian could hear the crack of all his joints as everything shifted back into place properly.

“Ahh, that’s good,” Bull commented with a small sigh of relief before turning to cast an interested eye over Dorian. “That should do us for tomorrow too, so how about we head to that inquisition camp early and discuss what we’d rather be doing? Compare notes, so to speak.”

His voice dropped low into an almost growl and it was all Dorian could do to hold in a shiver of anticipation. It was a tone he was all too familiar with now, one that appeared embarrassingly frequently in his idle day dreams when they were apart. Standing up, Dorian used the motion as an excuse to hide his rather embarrassing reaction; what grown man _shivered_ at the mere voice of someone else? He was far from some horny teenager; his aching joints could attest to that.

Moving towards their hitched mounts, Dorian prepared to get back into the saddle yet again. “I’ve thought this for a while, but just talking about your plans really gets you going, doesn’t it?”

Bull grunted, a long, low sound that he used when thinking about something sexy. “Fuck yeah, that anticipation just makes everything better. The build-up just gets your blood pumping. Plus, it’s a good way to make sure your partner is into it as much as you. Consent is sexy, we’ve talked about this.”

“Yes, yes.” Dorian waved Bull off with an exasperated flick of his wrist. “So you’ve told me. Multiple times now.”

“And I’ll keep telling you until you believe it,” Bull replied seriously. Dorian risked a glance over his shoulder and found Bull giving him a very intent, solemn look. He couldn’t hold the gaze and quickly turned back to his mare.

They remained silent as they mounted up, Dorian on a gentle dappled mare while Bull clambered up on his giant spotted nuggalope that looked as ridiculous as he did. The Inquisition camp wasn’t too far from where they were now though Dorian wished it was closer. The air between them felt awkward and he couldn’t come up with anything to clear it that wouldn’t sound contrived or just bring the conversation back to consent. It was a long-standing conversation that came up semi-frequently, with Bull slowly chipping away at Dorian’s rather Tevinter opinions.

Mostly around non-verbal communication and implied consent, both of which Bull preferred to be spoken to avoid miscommunication. Logically, Dorian could see where Bull was coming from but it felt so unnecessary, especially when they knew each other so well. Bull was perfectly capable of picking up Dorian’s cues and reading between the lines as much as Dorian was perfectly capable of verbalising when he wasn’t interested in something.

“So, if you could choose to do absolutely anything for your relaxation day, what would it be?” Bull asked, interrupting Dorian’s thoughts. “I told you mine already but I assume yours has something to do with books and wine.”

“You know me well, my dear Bull.” He paused for a moment, sifting through the first thoughts that came to mind. After a moment he decided to be honest, it was Bull who had asked after all. “Lying in a comfortable bed with a good book, a glass of fine wine, and a big lug also reading next to me, although no doubt with a book of questionable taste.”

“Aw, now who’s the big sap?”

“You,” Dorian replied immediately, his cheeks heating as the reality of his ideal day off sunk in. It was rather sappy, wasn’t it? “I don’t know of anyone else who tears up at his friends succeeding in life.”

“Hey now, all my boys have come from nothing. They deserve their dreams.” Dorian fell silent, any words he might have said stuck in his throat. How could he respond with his usual flippant words in the face of such earnest and steadfast belief? “I think we could manage a pretty nice day off once we get back to Skyhold though.”

“Oh?” Dorian asked, pleased to return to the previous topic. They were still a way out from their destination and he didn’t feel like spending the time in silence nor did he have the desire to fill the space with frivolous chatter right now. Talking might be his natural reflex in times like this, but somehow Bull’s steady presence squashed the need to fill the air between them with words.

“So, we start the day with your idea; just lazing in bed for the entire day, get some food and drink brought up, a good book or a long nap. Then move down to the tavern for more food and drink with my boys. After that we can finish the day off how we started it, in bed, but maybe with some ropes or something else fun.”

Dorian fought down the need to laugh. Bull turned to grin at him as an amused snort managed to escape despite his efforts. It was so very _Bull_ but it really did sound like the best day off. “Aren’t you still trying to play the stupid brute? You’ll ruin it in one fell swoop if you spend the day reading and drinking wine with me instead of hitting people with large blunted sticks in the training yard.”

“Nah, they’d never believe we were _just_ reading.” Bull cocked his head to the side, his grin turning leering, though there was a playfulness to it that made Dorian flush more than the insinuation. “Even if my room was quiet when the change of patrol goes past, they’d just think there were gags involved. That’s a good idea too though, don’t you think?”

“Gags? Or spreading rumours?” Dorian replied archly, though there was hardly a need to be facetious with Bull.

Bull snorted in reply, the noise alone managing to convey what he thought of the endless gossip that circled Skyhold. “The rumours spread enough on their own. All you have to do is nod at the wrong person and suddenly your either in love or conspiring against the Inquisitor. You should hear what was going around about Cullen last time we were in Skyhold.”

“The one about his scar or the one about what’s hiding under all that armour? Though our dashing commander aside, I would never have thought that soldiers would gossip so.”

“Anywhere there’s a group of people, there’s gossip,” Bull replied easily as he reached forward to pat his nuggalope’s neck when a lizard dashing underfoot startled it. Really, the desert heat was excellent but the rest of the area’s quirks left a lot to be desired. “You’ll notice it tonight at the scout camp, though I’d rather explore that gag idea.”

“I hardly need any help staying quiet,” Dorian shot back, feeling his back go up as they once again ventured into another regular conversation. Yet another Tevinter habit that caused contention in the ‘free’ South. Dorian was so used to hushed and hidden affairs in dangerous locations that he’d all but trained himself accidentally to suppress as much noise as he could. It was a sore spot for Dorian after he mistook Bull’s constant encouragement to be louder as disappointment that he wasn’t already vocal in bed. That had been long sense cleared up as a misunderstanding but it left a lingering doubt that he’d yet to fully vanquish. It took a great deal of focus to relax his immediately tensing muscles and he thought he caught a small sigh from Bull, though it was hard to be certain.

“That’s not really what they are about,” Bull gently chided, his already deep voice taking on a slight rumble that it did when he spoke quietly. “But you know that already.”

“You know, I was having a decent day,” Dorian said conversationally, intentionally looking ahead rather than at his lover. The barren landscape of sand wasn’t particularly exciting but he’d never been good at being honest and he found making eye contact made it all the harder. “I certainly didn’t plan on trying to pick a fight.”

“And this is why the Boss Lady has said we all need a break. Though getting prickly about your hang ups is hardly picking a fight, I’ve seen you trying to pick a fight and it was far fierier than that. More swearing too.”

Finally daring to look over at Bull, Dorian found him looking as he always did. A soft and warm expression that sent heat to Dorian’s cheeks far more readily than any lewd conversation. Bull’s presence was a large as he was but the sight of him was mostly just comforting to Dorian nowadays. Gone was Dorian’s perception of a brute, of a drunken mercenary who only thirsted for blood and women. In its place was a man of surprising intellect and loyalty, one who Dorian would trust with more than his own life. After all, life was cheap.

“Ah, here I am, waxing poetic in my own head.” Dorian sighed loudly and dramatically for effect before continuing, “You’re rubbing off on me, you great brute. Just wait, we’ll both be tearing up like old housewives at the next wedding.”

“Heh, when we get back to the camp I can rub off on you in other ways too.” Dorian’s groan of protest fell on deaf ears. “Or I can rub you off. Or even better, both of us at the same time. Sounds like a great way to get you all nice and relaxed like the boss wants.”

“Somehow I doubt that is what Cadash had in mind when she sent us off to a desert to gather the roots of a dangerous plant aptly named ‘deathroot’,” Dorian replied drily, though his lips twitched up into the start of a smile after he glanced over at Bull’s face again. Curse the man, his good humour was horribly infectious.

“We had this discussion earlier, it’s just a task to stop the workaholics from overworking when they are supposed to be resting. A little mutual masturbation to relax the muscles sounds like the perfect form of relaxation to me. You know…” Bull paused as he reigned his nuggalope to a stop. Following the qunari’s gaze, Dorian looked around but there was nothing more exciting than the same brown rock and sand as before. “We could make a start on that right now.”

“I am not going to duck into some disgusting spider infested cave just so you can rub one out before we get back to a camp with a perfectly serviceable tent,” Dorian exclaimed, aghast at the very suggestion. “Nothing is worth the risk of getting sand in even more unwanted places than there is already!”

Bull’s loud bark of laughter surprised Dorian. “That’s better! Show me that fire, Big Guy. You’ve been oddly pensive all day, this is a much better look for you.”

“You…” Words failed Dorian as the meaning of Bull’s sank in. He had been trying to distract Dorian, to pull him out from his own head and back to the present. In short, Bull was _worried_ about him. “You great sap,” he finally managed, earning a cheeky grin in return.

“Just for you, Big Guy.”

“Oh, hardly,” Dorian retorted as he nudged his horse back into motion. He could hear Bull doing the same a moment later and within seconds he was even with Dorian again. Dorian considered properly calling out Bull on his words but he’d just go and say something even more ridiculous like _‘only for family’ or ‘just those I care about’_ and Dorian couldn’t handle that right now. He felt oddly raw today, like everything was sitting too close to his skin. All his emotions, all his worries, everything that made him feel vulnerable was just there, somehow unable to be pushed away like usual.

“Perhaps Cadash was right,” Dorian said finally, breaking the silence that had enveloped them for the past few minutes. “I feel rather tired all of a sudden.”

“Not far to camp now, you can take it easy for the night.”

Silence fell between them again, a comfortable thing that Dorian rarely felt with other people. He could count on one hand the number of people that he felt so at ease with that he didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. The quiet amplified the gentle atmosphere of the breeze rustling the few plants and disturbing the sand swirling around their mount’s hooves. This part of the Wastes was long since cleaned out by their determined Inquisitor, any remnants of danger easily taken care of by the regular patrols of the scouts coming and going.

It meant they could relax during their final leg of the day’s journey and somehow the peaceful feeling made the area seem almost pretty. The lowering sun stained the sky deep reds and oranges while the lingering heat from the day was a pleasant comparison to Skyhold’s constant chill. If Dorian closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was back home. Tevinter rarely felt so comfortable though, for all that he loved the land dearly. The threat of assassination, of misused magic, or opportunistic ambition was an every day constant, even in the relative safety of your own home.

Thankfully they arrived at the Inquisition camp before Dorian could fall too far into his thoughts again. They had already been through this area earlier in the day to get information about the plant they were looking for so they were expected. It made for the easiest settle in for the night Dorian had experienced on the road so far. Their tent was already pitched, dinner was already prepared and bubbling away over the campfire, and the scouts were taking all the watch shifts between them. All they had to do was put away their saddle bags and brush down their hardworking mounts. Once his horse had been taken care of, including access to food and water, all that was left was to wait for dinner. Dorian would almost feel guilty about sitting around without helping except that he knew Cadash had sent word ahead to the scouts to organise just this.

Dorian never had been good at sitting back doing nothing. He always had to be doing something, even if it was nothing more than drinking wine and debating with his colleagues. That need to always be doing something had sharpened upon joining the Inquisition. How could he sit back while the entirety of Thedas was in jeopardy? If he couldn’t be out in the field with their tireless leader, then he could be scraping together any information that might give them the slightest bit of advantage against their foe. And when he wasn’t doing either of those things, he was wilfully letting his lover distract him.

It was a good system of working hard, drinking a little too much, and surrendering to Bull’s rather masterful ministrations so he could sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Done with putting with things away in their rather large, quite-nice-for-a-tent tent he sat next to Bull next to the fire. He was immediately pulled against Bull’s side, his massive arm easily wrapping around Dorian’s torso. He tensed immediately, the ingrained reaction still far from leaving him. A glance around showed no concern for Dorian sitting in the embrace of another man, a qunari at that. One day perhaps his reaction would go but for now, it was enough that he relaxed again quickly, melting against the solid warmth of his lover.

Dinner was a quiet affair, far more so than he was used to when travelling with the Inquisitor. With Cadash, if it wasn’t interruptions from scout reports, it was Dorian or Blackwall complaining, or Sera’s maniacal laughter, or Varric’s wild stories. But tonight it was a few quiet stories swapped between Bull and the scouts, the crackling of the fire, and the low constant noise of insects. The food was exceptionally good and Dorian made sure to pick the brain of the young elven scout who was in charge of dinner. He came away with a small earthenware jar of dried herbs and an entire notebook page of notes of various herbs easy to find on the road. The very prospect of never having to suffer another of Blackwall’s bland stews left the future feeling bright.

The peaceful air that lingered over their quiet dinner seemed to seep into his very bones. It kept Dorian mostly silent as they cleaned up after dinner and headed to the oasis to wash off the grime from their travel. It was a calm kind of silence, one of relaxed contemplation rather than getting lost in his own head. The difference must have been noticeable because Bull seemed content to leave the silence be, something he wouldn’t do if he was concerned.

“Ahh!” Dorian gasped out in delighted surprise as he finished casting off his clothing to step into the shallow pool. “I forgot how warm the water was here! It’s like a bath, only with regrettably more sand.”

“It’s been a while since we’ve been here,” Bull responded before ducking straight under the waterfall with a loud sigh of relief. The water splashed off his bulk in every direction, drenching Dorian immediately. “This place is the fucking _best._ ”

Dorian chuckled as he wiped the water from his eyes. He remembered the last time they’d visited here with Cadash, how disgusting they’d all been, how exhausted from the heat and long day of fighting and travel. It was then that they had discovered how wonderfully soothing the warm waters of the oasis were, and how much like an intense massage the waterfall itself was. They’d taken turns to stand under the water pouring from the cliff, using the force of the water to beat out the tension from sore muscles in their necks and backs. It was as close to a proper massage as you could get while travelling with a band of misfits at the end of the world.

“Dorian,” Bull called, beckoning him closer when he turned to look. He had to stop and stare for a moment before approaching, the moonlight hitting the water streaming over bulging muscles in a way that Dorian needed the image painted and hung on his wall. Bull’s grin said that he knew exactly what Dorian was staring at and did the typical flex, just to put on a little show.

Reaching his lover, Dorian let himself be pulled into the stream of water. There was just enough space for them both under the waterfall and the warm pressure set about relaxing his muscles immediately. Bull pulled him against his chest, his thick fingers massaging into Dorian’s skull. The lingering stress headache that he’d been ignoring for day vanished within seconds and with that, the tension just drained away from Dorian. He mused that they might look like some romantic painting or book cover from the outside looking in, two lovers pressed together under a waterfall, the water pouring over their naked bodies. In reality, Dorian wanted nothing more than to be clean, Bull being naked with him nothing but a delightful bonus.

Once clean, they both just stood together under the waterfall for a long time. No words were exchanged, no words needed at a time like this, just the quiet enjoyment of each other’s company and the feeling of all the knotted muscles loosening one by one. Even after they’d spent far too long in the water, it was with great reluctance that Dorian allowed himself to be ushered back to shore. The air was rapidly chilling around them, though the water remained warm, which made it all the harder to drag himself out. Instead of dressing again, Dorian opted for covering himself loosely with passed for a towel from his saddle bags, it was cold but better than putting on dirty clothing when he was finally so clean. As Dorian headed for their shared tent, he made a quick pitstop by the now dying firepit.

“Do you mind if I take one of these stones?” Dorian asked his new friend, the elven scout whose shared knowledge of herbs would save him from Ferelden’s lack of tastebuds. She blinked at him, surprise evident as she looked between Dorian and the ring of stones around the firepit that he was gesturing to.

“Go ahead.”

With a nod of thanks, Dorian bent down, careful to make sure he was still covered by the towel, however precariously. Reaching out, he traced out an intricate rune with a finger across the flattest part of the stone he could see. Rocks were surprisingly hardy when it came to magic, it took a great deal of force to break one, and while they didn’t conduct magic particularly well, there were simple runes that worked brilliantly. This stone, already hot from the fire, was easy to imbue with magic that would amplify the heat and provide warmth through the night. Using his discarded clothing, Dorian wrapped the burning hot stone so that he could carry it. A polite goodnight was exchanged as he quickly lugged the surprisingly heavy stone into their tent.

Bull had already cleared a space for their impromptu heater, knowing what Dorian was doing when he approached the firepit. Placing it down in the sandy hollow away from anything flammable, Dorian amped up the magic being supplied to the rune and the heat emanating from the now scorching rock would rapidly heat their space. No need to have the desert heat thaw out his frozen bones only to re-freeze again during the cold night.

“Dagna’s alteration to the rune was quite effective,” Dorian remarked as he warmed his fingers in the heat radiating from the stone. Not as intense heat as a fire however not terribly far off. “More heat with less mana drain and almost completely removed chance of destruction. I might finally never be cold again.”

Bull chuckled as he reached over to grab Dorian’s discarded clothing. “I’m sure you’ll find something else to complain about instead.”

“Of course, or you’ll miss the sound of my voice. Do that tomorrow—” he started but Bull ducked out of the tent with their washing, headless of his half-hearted protest.

Credit where credit was due, Bull might not care about how messy he got during the day, sweat, blood, mud etc, but come camp, he was the most meticulously clean of all of them. It had taken Dorian actually paying attention to the big lug to notice, of course, but it said a lot about Bull as a person. Knowing that there was nothing for it but to wait, Dorian dropped his towel and walked over to the main support beam. The tents here were of a more permanent nature than he was used to while travelling. It meant that all the support beams of wood where planted firmly into the ground and the tents were tall enough to stand up in, although Dorian had to stoop. A testing push against the support beam and Dorian was satisfied that it would be sturdy enough to lean against.

He managed to engineer his saddle blanket into something of a pillow to cushion his back against the wooden support and he sat leaning back against the beam with a small sigh. Much better than hunched over in a small, freezing tent. The warmth from the stone was slowly but surely infusing the tent leaving Dorian with no desire to dress anytime soon. Lounging around naked was a luxury now days and if he was forced to spend his rare day off in the desert picking herbs of dubious nature, then he’ll take what opportunities he could get.

Dorian was lacking in wine unfortunately but he did have a spare book in his saddle bags that he leaned over to grab. A rather dull thing on spirit magic theory that he was hoping to glean some tips for restoration magic from. Still, one worked with what they had and until his lover returned from doing the washing, this was it. At least he was warm.

Unsurprisingly, Dorian was bored out of his mind by the time Bull returned. The book was discarded immediately in favour of watching Bull strip out of what counted for armour. Each movement was well practiced and smooth, a testament to the years spent as a warrior. When Bull was up to his knee brace Dorian held his arms out wide and spayed his legs invitingly. Bull paused to look him over appreciatively, only moving when Dorian impatiently patted the ground in front on him.

“Sit,” he demanded, all the upper-class authority placed on the word as he could. Not that it would sway Bull if he didn’t want to, but Dorian knew that it amused his lover when he spoke like that. He hadn’t yet figured out why it entertained Bull so but he wasn’t beyond utilising the knowledge for his own benefit.

With a small groan of effort, Bull sat heavily in front of Dorian, mindful of his horns as he shuffled back to lean against the smaller man. Immediately Dorian wrapped his arms around Bull’s middle and pressed himself along his wide back.

Bull carried on with his task of removing the metal contraption supporting his knee, ignoring the mage plastered to his back. Boots off, brace removed, all that was left was the monstrous pants but Dorian didn’t care to move long enough to remove the hideous things.

“You okay there, Dorian?” Bull asked, leaning back a touch as he tried to turn to see Dorian.

“Oh yes, I should do this more often. I forget how _warm_ you are.” There was more to it than just that, though Dorian found he didn’t want to verbalise that just yet.

There was something about having his lover in his arms like this that was comforting beyond belief. Usually it would be Dorian curled up on Bull’s knee, and while comfortable and even comforting, this was something more. Perhaps it was merely Dorian’s oddly raw state today, or maybe the quiet atmosphere in the tent. Regardless, all of a sudden, all his prickliness from earlier, all his worries, were soothed away by the solid bulk of Bull in his arms.

“Heh, I’m surprised you didn’t realise that sooner. You forget every time.”

“Lean back,” Dorian demanded, tightening his grip in illustration rather than responding to Bull’s words. For once, he didn’t feel like engaging in the opportunity for banter that Bull had presented. Though, considering how his day had been so far, perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising.

Bull complied without complaint, shifting his weight back so that he was leaning against his chest. He dwarfed Dorian and his weight was not insubstantial yet he found it only more comforting than before. Closing his eyes, Dorian focused on just feeling where their skin touched. Each breath slower than the last as he relaxed. His hands moved of their own accord, feeling the layer of fat around his lover’s middle along with the steel muscles underneath.

“I like this,” Dorian admitted after a long moment. “I can see why you always like being the ‘big spoon’ so to speak.”

Bull chuckled, his huge hand covering Dorian’s own where it rested against his stomach. “It’s more from necessity, though it certainly has it’s perks. Can’t say I mind it this way, I like it when you get all bossy.”

“This is hardly bossy, but I can indulge you if you’d like.” He let his hands wander over Bull’s stomach while he contemplated what he wanted to do but came up blank. The comforting feeling of Bull against him was overriding all else and he found himself rather loathe to move. “I don’t find myself feeling particularly demanding tonight, however. In fact, I wouldn’t at all be averse to just staying like this for a while longer.”

“Aw, you’re sweet, Big Guy.”

Dorian grumbled half-heartedly against Bull’s back. “Hardly, I’m merely comfortable.”

Bull chuckled, Dorian could feel the rumble through his back, and laced their fingers together. It was sickeningly sweet and it sent Dorian’s heart racing like a love sick fool. He wondered if Bull could feel how hot his cheeks suddenly were against his back. Perhaps they were both fools, though Dorian didn’t dare add the other word on for Bull, it was a thought that he was not quite ready for just yet. Instead, perhaps it was better to distract both of them for now, least either of them gets carried away.

They might be something more now, with _feelings_ and all that nonsense, but that didn’t mean Dorian wanted to rush things more than they’d already managed. Feelings were one thing, he’d had plenty of feelings for various people throughout his life, but _love,_ that was uncharted territory. Some things were only better with time, or so that’s what he always told himself when he didn’t want to face something. It was one of the few lies he could tell himself and pretend it was true, at least for a while.

Though perhaps this time it wouldn’t be a lie.

“Bull,” Dorian started then trailed off with a small sigh.

“You sure you’re okay, Dorian? You know, you are allowed not to be alright. For all your complaining, you’re always quiet about the important things.”

“I’m… surprisingly fine. Considering we are currently in a desert pretending we aren’t facing the potential end of the world. Today has been odd, granted,” Dorian allowed, shifting a little to tighten his grip on Bull a little. “and so, I feel rather in need of a distraction. Nothing particularly complex or strenuous, just… distracting.”

“Yeah? What you thinking? A good book distracting, a nice conversation, or we can swap places and I can take real good care of you.” At the end Bull’s voice went deep, almost rumbling out from his chest. Dorian’s eyes fluttered shut of their own accord as he felt the vibrations of the words on his cheek where it pressed against Bull’s back.

“I have a better idea,” Dorian replied finally, once he managed to get himself back under control. Carefully, he shifted so he could talk directly into Bull’s ear. “I’m going to distract myself by taking care of you.”

“Oh?” Bull pushed back against Dorian’s chest, his head tilting back and towards Dorian. “What have you got in mind?”

Humming idly, Dorian contemplated his options. There were so many choices with the entirety of Bull being available to him right now. Plucking at the waistband of Bull’s hideous pants, Dorian replied, “As much as I want to burn these, I’m sure I could convince you to remove them instead?”

“You going to move enough for that to happen?” Bull chuckled when Dorian sighed dramatically but still didn’t move. “We can sit here for a bit longer instead if you want, I’m in no hurry.”

“I know, you’re the most patient person I know and considering you’re up against Cadash, that’s saying something.”

“Heh, the boss lady is something else,” Bull said, his voice conveying both respect and a little awe if Dorian was not mistaken. Which, honestly, was about how Dorian felt about their singularly determined leader. “But I’m always up for the long game, the rewards are so much sweeter than if you rush things.”

“Perhaps, but sometimes I don’t want to wait.” To give example, Dorian crept his hands under the waistband of Bull’s loose pants. Finger’s explored across smooth skin then scarred to eventually find an already awakening cock that jumped at the barest touch. Delighted, Dorian grinned against Bull’s shoulder as he ghosted his fingers across the now rapidly hardening length. “And I see you aren’t exactly averse to not waiting as well.”

Bull huffed a laugh but didn’t interfere with Dorian’s wandering hands. Unusual for Bull to be so passive but there was a sense of trust, and of understanding, between them now. He was letting Dorian do as he pleased, for now at least, most likely aware of the raw, vulnerable state that he was in and not wanting to push him. It made Dorian’s heart swell to be the center of such care, although it was likely to annoy him at other times. Well, he was the first to admit that he could be fickle at times.

“I want to see but you’re too big,” Dorian groused as he tried to look over Bull’s should but there was no way he could see anything beyond the side of Bull’s face and the tent fabric opposite them.

“I’m always big for you.”

Dorian scoffed at the shitty joke, though it was hardly inaccurate as far as their escapades went, and finally released Bull, allowing him to shuffle forward. While his lover was shimmying out of his pants, Dorian reluctantly extracted himself from behind Bull. The hideous excuse for clothing was quickly tossed to the other side of the tent and Bull took Dorian’s previously occupied place leaning against the padded support beam.

Climbing across Bull’s wide thighs, Dorian felt his pulse jump with arousal though it didn’t take hold like it normally did. He settled with his knees on either side of his lover’s hips, one hand curling around Bull’s neck while the other danced fingers deftly down his scarred chest. This was a familiar position, though the soft atmosphere lingered still. There was no baiting tonight, no needy demands, no control given or forcefully taken. Just the two of them, stripped bare and sharing each other’s breath. How many months had it taken to work up to this point, where no pretence was needed? Though honestly, had today not been what it was, they may still be playing their usual games.

Bull’s hands automatically settled on Dorian’s hips, his thumbs gently rubbing patterns over his skin. They sat there for a long moment, almost suspended in time but for the slowly moving fingers across each other’s skin. How could a moment that was usually so charged with arousal and need become so soft and intimate?

When Dorian finally let his hand fall once more to skim across Bull’s hard cock, he caught the sharp intake of breath from his lover that would usually go unnoticed. The light touch of his fingers would normally be the worst tease but tonight it suited the pace. Only when he finished exploring and grasped Bull fully in his fist did the other man move. One hand slid around to rest above Dorian’s ass, pulling him closer so that they were almost chest to chest. The other reached to the saddle bag sitting nearby, carelessly fumbling around until he found the small stoppered vial of oil kept for just such occasions.

Without needing to be asked, Dorian reached over to pluck the cork loose then lined them both up while Bull poured a rather liberal smearing of oil across their lengths. It was a relatively practiced manoeuvre, born of too many nights spent in cramped tents in the wilderness. Bull’s hand joined Dorian’s, easily dwarfing his, and together they stroked in concert. Each movement slow and deliberate and Dorian couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss. Bull met him part way and for along time they sat like that, trading soft kisses while slowly but surely the heat between them began to build.

Heat coiled in the pit of Dorian’s stomach and he neared the limit of his patience. However, when he tried to push for more Bull’s hand stopped his own and forced the pace to remain as it had.

“Slow down Kadan, just relax into it,” Bull murmured before stealing another kiss while Dorian’s brain screeched to a halt.

That was not a name he’d heard before but it was said in place of his own and filled with all the notes of endearment he’d expect from a pet name. But it was a qunlat word and the qun didn’t believe in love and romance so what did it mean? There was significance in how it had been said, and to say it today of all days? This was the dangerous territory that Dorian had been planning on avoiding, especially when he was still feeling so out of sorts.

“It’s a title of honour, Kadan,” Bull replied to the unspoken question, though he didn’t elaborate further. There was an air of waiting about him as though he wanted Dorian to ask, or perhaps it was more that Bull was giving him a chance to leave it for now. To come back to the implications of an honoured title another day when he was ready.

“And just what am I supposed to do with that?” Dorian asked, suddenly aware that he’d been frozen in place just staring for an unknown amount of time while he struggled with what to do. “I do not know what that means, you’ve explained nothing, and while I’m aware we’ve ventured into feelings territory this is something else entirely! Is this the part when I’m supposed to say something back? Or am I supposed to just ignore it and carry on as though I’m some oblivious fool?”

“Dorian,” Bull said softly, interrupting Dorian’s increasingly hysterical tirade. “You’re nervous talking.”

“I’m not nervous!” At Bull’s cocked eyebrow and knowing look, Dorian huffed out a sigh. He took a moment to take a few deep breaths to steady himself. Without being able to meet Bull’s eye, he repeated, “I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Nothing,” was the instant response as Bull brought his hand up to nudge Dorian’s chin up to look at him. Bull was careful not to get any of the oil smeared across his fingers on Dorian’s face, instead carefully using the back of his hand to apply pressure until he finally complied with the unspoken request. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ve told you that I had feelings for you and a while ago I decided those feelings made you Kadan, or ‘my heart’. You don’t need to feel pressured to say something in return, I know you care already. That you’re here with me after all the bullshit over the last few months is enough.”

Gently, Bull pulled Dorian in for another kiss. It was soft and slow and conveyed more feeling that any words could. It settled Dorian’s fraying nerves and he began to relax again.

Pulling away, though truly he could kiss Bull all day and not be bored, Dorian couldn’t help one particular observation. “Leaving the Qun is not ‘bullshit’ and neither is dealing with rifts or demons or undead or fucking Corypheus.”

“Let’s not fuck Corypheus,” Bull replied, his lips curling up into a sly smile as Dorian half-heartedly slapped his chest in protest. “I’d rather get back to fucking you, Kadan.”

“I’m amenable, provided you actually get on with it.”

“Now, now. There’s no rush.” Bull’s hand slipped back down to grasp both their cocks in his huge hand. The pace he set was as frustratingly slow as before. “Just relax and enjoy it. Let me take care of you.”

“I thought I was taking care of you,” Dorian grumbled, though there was no real heat to the words. Leaving Bull to work their lengths together, he reached his own oiled hand behind himself. The hand that Bull had left resting above his ass moved to intercept his hand, the thick fingers curling around his own.

“So impatient.”

Yet for all Bull’s amused chiding, he took over what Dorian had intended. Masterful fingers probed carefully at his hole, applying pressure but never actually entering him, while his other hand moved in tandem to stroke them both off. The twin sensations might just be a favourite of his, something that Bull was well aware of by now, and pleasure flooded through him, building rapidly. His soft gasps were swallowed by Bull, their kisses turning messy as they both came undone.

“That’s it, cum for me Dorian,” Bull groaned against his lips, though it was hardly needed.

A soft cry of pleasure slipped unheeded from his lips as Dorian came, his body tensing against his lovers. Bull followed quickly after and they sat there for a long moment just basking in the lingering heat flooding their bodies.

Dorian rested his forehead against Bull’s collarbone and said in a small voice, “Amatus.”

He heard Bull’s breath catch in his throat and he wrapped both arms around Dorian, pulling him tightly against his chest.

“That is disgusting!” Dorian cried out, feeling the cooling body fluid smearing across his back from Bull’s hand and all up his stomach as they pressed together. “Clean up, now!”

Bull laughed as Dorian frantically searched the tent for something to clean them off with before settling on pouring some water from his water skin onto Bull’s pants to use. Wiping them both down, Dorian grumbled under his breath about uncouth barbarians and Bull didn’t even bother to make a token protest. Instead, the big lug just watched Dorian with a rather ridiculously endearing grin.

As clean as they could be, Dorian discarded the ugly pants with plans in mind to burn them for real tomorrow. Their currently disgusting state was an excellent excuse, after all. “Now that’s enough excitement for one day, I’m ready to sleep.”

“Yes dear,” Bull replied, his grin widening at the arch look Dorian gave him.

With the ease of long practise, they settled in for sleep; Bull stretched out on his back with Dorian tucked up under his arm.

“I didn’t say it because you gave me a pet name first,” Dorian ventured into the dark. The arm slung around his waist squeezed a little before lessening again.

“I know. Goodnight, Kadan.”

“Goodnight… Amatus.”


End file.
